Chapter Text
THE LIGHTWOODS’ DARK TRUTH: Isabelle Lightwood’s fall from grace, a darling actress turned scandal
If there was one thing Izzy liked about LA, it was the beach.
The people, the paparazzi, the constant thirst for fame, she could have done without, but the beach on a quiet day? There was nothing in New York that could compare to the peace she felt when she closed her eyes, listened to the waves, and knew she was completely, utterly alone.
Of course, like everything she loved, it hadn’t been long before the paparazzi and media had gotten their hands on this little fact about her. They’d pounced on it and sprung up hundreds of theories within the day: she went to the beach to do drugs, she met up with her paramours and debauched them publicly, she wore the skimpiest bikinis to flaunt what she had and make a spectacle of herself…
It had become so exhausting that she’d stopped going altogether.
She might have been the one to start the rumors about herself, and she’d known there would be consequences to her actions when she’d set out to ruin her reputation, but it was still utterly miserable to see her name get dragged through the mud.
So, when Simon – lovely, kind, sweet Simon – had shyly told her about the party he was hosting at his private, beachfront house, she’d jumped on the opportunity.
The party was still in full swing just a couple of feet behind her, but she’d blocked out the majority of the sound when she’d slipped through the back door and buried her feet in the sand.
Her head was tilted up towards the moon, her eyes closed, her mind stuck on the thousands of choices that had led her to this exact moment, finding peace in the most unexpected of places.
A cool breeze caressed her skin, and Izzy let out a contented sigh.
The weather in LA had been surprisingly similar to the heat she was used to in New York, but she missed the occasional day of rain and wind and an overcast sky that deterred the paparazzis and gave her a chance to live her life freely. Now that September was slowly giving way to October, the temperatures were settling and the wind was slowly making a reappearance.
If she hadn’t been constantly weighed down by her parents’ disappointed messages, the press’ obsession with her career, and the stress of finding an agent who wouldn’t balk at the rumors she’d spun around herself, perhaps she could have enjoyed it properly.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t think anyone else would be out here!”
Izzy didn’t startle easily. She’d grown up with three brothers who lived to annoy her, and she’d spent enough years in the industry to get used to sudden noises.
So, if anyone asked her if she’d startled when she’d heard the angelic voice coming from above her, she would deny it until her dying breath. She would tell them she’d sat up gracefully, opened her eyes, squinted in the darkness, and calmly looked at the person in front of her.
Only the angel would know the truth.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The angel said, and Izzy finally calmed her pounding heart enough to pivot and lay eyes on the person who’d interrupted her perfectly fine, relaxing evening.
Then promptly forgot how to breathe.
Standing in front of her was a girl about her age with cascading ginger hair, pale skin that glittered in the moonlight, and a smile bright enough to rival the sun. She was the most beautiful person Izzy had ever seen.
And she was looking at Izzy with her lips parted and eyes wide, as though she’d just been struck.
“Um,” Izzy said, mentally hitting herself for her complete lack of charm. She was usually much better at this. Much, much better. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the angel giggled. Izzy’s throat went dry. “I said that already, didn’t I? Sorry, my head’s clearly somewhere else. Do you mind if I join you? I usually come out here when Si starts rambling about his nerd stuff with the rest of his friends, but I’ve never run into anyone before. I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Are you a new friend of his?”
“A new friend of…” Izzy shook her head to clear her thoughts. Si. Right. “Oh, yeah. Simon and I met a few weeks ago, and I think he took pity on me since I’m new to the area.”
“Really?” The angel asked, her eyes wide. “Lucky you.”
Izzy blinked.
“Lucky?”
“I’ve been stuck here for as long as I can remember,” the angel shrugged. “I’d love to leave, go somewhere new, travel the world, explore everything I never had a chance to discover as a kid. I was born in New York, but the memories of those first few years are blurry now. All my heart’s ever known is LA.”
A few months ago, Izzy would have jumped on the mention of New York. She would have forged a connection based on their shared place of birth, would have told this beautiful girl all about the city, the things she loved, the things she hated.
But New York wasn’t hers anymore.
“That can be good too,” Izzy said softly. “It’s easy to convince yourself there’s more to the world than what you know, but living it? I don’t know. I–”
She’d thrown everything away almost half a year ago, and she’d yet to stop regretting it.
“Pretty jaded for someone in LA,” the angel chuckled. Izzy met her gaze and saw nothing but pure amusement and curious joy in those hazel depths. Not a hint of malice or judgment. Most importantly, not even a flicker of recognition. “This is the city of dreams! Actors and singers and creatives from all around come here to find where they belong. I’m almost certain throwing caution to the wind is the city’s motto.”
Izzy didn’t answer.
The truth was, LA’s reputation was the reason she’d moved to the west coast when New York had become too overwhelming. It wasn’t much better, considering her parents’ influence and the fame that trailed behind her menacingly, but she’d clung to the idea of a new dream with both hands fisted.
She’d been high off her fall from grace, and throwing caution to the wind – as the angel so perfectly put it – had been an easy decision.
“Is that why you’re friends with Simon?” Izzy asked instead. “Chasing some big dreams? I’ve seen the company he keeps, and they’re all as ambitious as he is, reaching for the stars and settling for anything in between.”
“Ha,” the angel scoffed. “Si loves taking credit for my work, but I’m the one who sparked all that inspiration and endless motivation. We’re childhood best friends and, if it wasn’t for me, Simon would still be stuck hanging out with his old high school band. Though– I guess he does still hang out with them. But now they actually get an audience during their gigs.”
“He’s doing good,” Izzy hummed, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Ever since she’d met him, Simon had been Izzy’s light in the dark. He’d taken a seat next to her at the minor awards show they’d both been nominated for, and it felt like he hadn’t left her side since then. He kept her company on set when others whispered behind her back, he invited her out when he thought she looked lonely, and he cheered her on every time she wrapped up one of her scenes. Sharing space with him was a little like being trusted with a ray of sunshine.
She loved it. She loved him. She loved herself when she was with him.
“So, how did you and Si meet?” the angel asked her. “Not to be nosy or anything, but that boy can’t meet anyone without making the strangest of impressions. What was it with you? Did he spill coffee all over your favourite outfit? Accidentally insult your boss? Perform one of his less successful attempts at songwriting?”
Izzy couldn’t help but laugh a little at the picture of Simon this woman was painting. She’d known him for such a short amount of time, in the grand scheme of things, and yet she could imagine each of those encounters in vivid detail. Simon, who stumbled over his words until they mattered the most, and who couldn’t hold himself upright unless he thought no one was looking at him.
“It was an awards’ show,” Izzy answered honestly. “He sat next to me because he was late and I was alone, and then proceeded to try to tie his tie on the spot. Apparently, he was running some errands for his sister before the show and barely had time to get into his suit before he got to the venue.”
“Did he make you tie it?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously,” the woman-angel giggled. “His tale may have well been true, knowing Si, but he also doesn’t know the steps needed to properly tie a tie. He would have needed your help even if he’d been an hour early. I find myself dreaming of the day when he’ll be famous and adored, just so he can have employees to sort his outfits out for him. As it is now, I’m essentially his unpaid assistant.”
Izzy couldn’t blame him. She would never want to take advantage of the angel and, unlike Simon, she had more than enough money to pay for an assistant, but to lay eyes on such a lovely woman all day long? It wasn’t being trusted with a ray of sun; it was being handed the whole sky and told all it needed to survive was admiration. Izzy would gladly do that if the angel let her.
“I think–”
“Oh goodness, I just realized I didn’t even introduce myself,” the angel gasped before Izzy could finish her sentence – compliment? “I’m Clary. Clary Fray.”
“Clary,” Izzy murmured, the name flowing from her lips like she’d been waiting for it her whole life. “I’m Izzy.”
“Izzy?” Clary frowned, and Izzy instantly regretted sharing the truth.
She loved Simon, but she couldn’t have expected him not to mention that he was working with Isabelle Lightwood. If Clary truly was one of his closest friends, then he surely shared everything with her.
Still, the idea of losing her anonymity, this feeling of peace in the midst of chaos, the comfortable space she’d let Clary into, made her heart clench. A pang of loss preemptively hit her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the questions. The curiosity. The conspicuous prodding about her private life.
“You’re the one who told him to contact Santiago!” Clary exclaimed, and Izzy’s heart started again. “When he told me he’d found a way to get in touch with Raphael Santiago, of all people, I couldn’t believe him. Like, literally didn’t believe him. Si is amazing, but we’re normal people. We don’t have parents and friends and contacts everywhere in the world, you know? Santiago… Well, nothing concrete has been decided between them yet, but the fact that Si could even get a meeting with him in the first place? I can’t thank you enough for that.”
Izzy blinked, stared at Clary, then let out an involuntary laugh. She shook her head at Clary’s confused gaze, forcing herself to calm down and continue their conversation in a manner that didn’t involve delirious laughter.
“I’m sorry,” she told Clary. “You’re right, I am the one who told Simon to talk to Raphael. I have… contacts in the industry, and it only seemed fair to give Simon a true shot instead of watching him over perform in the roles and opportunities he’s been handed so far. Raphael will judge Simon fairly.”
He would have judged Izzy fairly, too, but she’d categorically refused his help when he’d reached out to her. He’d been eager to have her on the West Coast and had insisted he would love nothing more than to be her agent, but Izzy had turned it down without a second’s hesitation.
She wasn’t worried about Raphael’s reputation. In fact, booking someone like her would have most likely raised his status in the spheres he liked to frequent. However, Izzy needed an agent that her family wouldn’t be able to reach out to, and Raphael – though he would never betray her secrets – was unfortunately linked to the Lightwoods in more ways than one
But the true reason she’d refused Raphael’s offer had been a simple one: he liked multi-talents, people who dipped their toes into music as much as they did into acting.
Izzy didn’t sing anymore.
“– working with him on a project right now?”
Izzy tuned back into Clary’s idle chatter and grimaced apologetically when she realized she’d stopped paying attention to the other woman. Clary only smiled sunnily at her, waiting for Izzy’s brain to catch up to her latest question.
“I am,” she finally said. “I don’t think he likes it much more than I do, though he’d never admit to it out loud. He’d be better suited to comedy and musical dramas than this procedural stuff.”
“Si’s wonderful at everything,” Clary waved her off, and Izzy tilted her head to the side in acknowledgement.
“Of course he is,” she agreed. “But there’s a difference between being wonderful and being happy. I’m sure Raphael will notice it instantly. I give it two years before Simon is being cast in movies and shows that truly suit him rather than these entry-level jobs.”
“Is that true for you, too?” Clary asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity. “Entry-level jobs until Santiago can push you into the roles you most love?”
“Ah,” Izzy winced. She looked away from Clary and back at the ocean, which lapped at the sand calmly. A peaceful backdrop for a conversation Izzy had desperately avoided for the past few months. She supposed it was better than being backed into a corner by overzealous reporters. “Not quite. I’m– taking a break from other projects until I can find an agent that suits my needs. Raphael doesn’t represent me.”
“Oh, sorry,” Clary frowned. “Who represented you before?”
“Starkweather,” Izzy answered blandly.
Of all the things she didn’t regret leaving behind, Starkweather was at the top of her list, second only to her parents and their relentless demands.
“Holy shit,” Clary’s eyes widened. “The Lightwoods’ agent?”
Izzy had to bite back another laugh.
She wondered how Clary could know her family’s name, be so invested in the acting scene, have an understanding of their industry, and yet not know what she looked like.
Or had she truly changed that much since she’d last featured in a show? The last one she’d filmed was still airing, pictures of a smiling face she no longer recognised appearing on billboards, shadowed by Alec and Jace.
They’d done a good job of pushing her to the back of their promotional material, easily distracting the public with her prettier, more acceptable brothers. They couldn’t erase her role in the show without ruining the storyline, and they couldn’t afford to cancel the season either, but she knew they’d done everything in their power to relegate her to the sidelines.
Regardless, even with the changes in her attitude and the decisions made to exclude her from promotional material, there was– everything else.
The tabloids, the gossip, the pictures taken by paparazzi when she dropped her guard even for a minute.
“Clary,” she said seriously, turning away from the ocean to meet Clary’s green eyes. They were beautiful up close. They stared at her now, confusion warring with something clever and searching. “Simon must be looking for you.”
“This may come as a shock, but Simon has other people to occupy him right now,” Clary snorted. “I’m quite certain he’s engaged in some… entertainment right now. I wouldn’t worry about him.”
“Well,” Izzy cleared her throat. “Regardless. I’m sure your other friends will be missing you.”
“You know, there was a rumor that Isabelle Lightwood had been spotted around here,” Clary said, the non-sequitur sending panic racing down Izzy’s back. “I can’t believe Simon didn’t tell me your full name! He knows I don’t engage in all that nonsensical gossip.”
Izzy pursed her lips, wrenching her gaze back to the ocean and shuffling a few inches to her left, away from Clary.
“Woah, none of that,” Clary huffed. “Seriously, do you think someone who couldn’t recognize you on sight is going to suddenly go around spreading whatever secrets you think you’ve shared with me? First of all, I have about as much memory as a goldfish, and though I tried very hard to hang on to your every word, I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten half of what we talked about. Second of all, the only reason I’m pissed at Simon for not sharing more details about you is because you’re– Well, I’m sure you hear it plenty, but you’re quite stunning.”
Izzy did hear it quite often.
She never heard it out of the lips of angels, though. Coming from Clary, the words felt warmer, more significant, as though she’d turned a simple descriptor into something that could solve all of Izzy’s problems.
Stunning.
“So, the infamous Isabelle Lightwood prefers spending time on the beach to… whatever’s going on in there? If that’s the case, the media is greatly exaggerating your more daring behaviors.”
“Daring behaviors is a very kind way of putting that,” Izzy snorted, amused despite herself.
Despite the recognition now lighting Clary’s eyes, it didn’t seem to have triggered anything specific within the woman. No worship, no disgust, not even the hint of apprehension she’d seen in some of her New York friends’ eyes after her first scandal had gotten out.
“Ah, well you know how it is in LA,” Clary chuckled. “Drugs and sex are old news. It’s not like your actions hurt anyone.”
A categorical lie, but not one Izzy was willing to delve into right then and there.
“Besides, isn’t there a saying about publicity? All publicity is good publicity, or whatever?” Clary continued, undeterred by Izzy’s startled silence. “My mom would disagree, but I think Simon would definitely be with me on this one. We’ve been wading in the nothingness of low-level acting for over a year now, and if a scandal is what it took to land us something different, I don’t think either of us would turn down the opportunity.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Izzy snorted dryly. “It’s a little exhilarating at first, but overall not worth the hassle.”
“Ah, but I bet the exhilaration was unbelievably freeing,” Clary said wistfully. “Besides, isn’t that what the acting world is supposed to be like? Scandal and risk and doing whatever it takes to get to the top?”
It was strange, Izzy thought, to hear her parents’ mentality be spoken in such a gentle, hopeful way.
“Is that how you want to get there?” Izzy asked, genuinely curious. A furrow appeared between Clary’s brows at the question, invisible shadows dulling the brilliance of her eyes for a few seconds.
“No,” Clary finally answered. “I guess not. It just feels like sometimes, being good only gets you so far.”
Izzy didn’t answer. Being good had gotten her so very far. So far that Alec had started breaking under the pressure, so far that Jace had stopped talking to them for weeks at a time, lost in his head, incapable of talking about what was bothering him. So far that Izzy had looked at her face on posters and gone to sleep crying, incapable of recognising who she was when she looked in a mirror.
“But then again,” Clary shook whatever darkness had taken over her away, her smile illuminating the space between them, “it’s never really about being good or bad, is it? All it takes is talent and enough connections to get by. You’re lucky in that way.”
And yet Izzy couldn’t help but feel as though Clary’s earlier statement of her luck had been closer to the truth. Flying to LA, starting over, discovering the world? Those things, despite the baggage that came with them, were a blessing.
The connections she’d been born with? Oh, they were a privilege, but they were also a vice she would never truly be free of.
However…
“Speaking of connections,” she said carefully, wondering what was prompting this sudden line of thinking. Was it a strange burst of generosity, an overwhelming sense of guilt over the things she could have had but constantly rejected, or simply the way her heart seemed to skip a beat every time Clary smiled at her? “I know someone who might be able to help you out, if that’s something you wanted. I couldn’t work with her for many reasons, but she’s fair and good and probably better suited to you than someone like Raphael. If you showed me some of your work in previous gigs, perhaps I could–”
She was cut off by the feeling of Clary’s arms wrapping around her neck and the sound of an excited squeal just inches away from her ear.
“I’ll show you whatever you need to see!” Clary grinned. “And we’ll have to look at some of your stuff, too! Simon’s been harping at me to get more involved in the industry but honestly, I can never focus on movies for too long. But perhaps if I have company…”
Izzy blinked at Clary.
Their conversation had been nice, devoid of any expectations, and surprisingly tolerable despite the lingering awkwardness Izzy felt whenever someone knew about the many questionable things she’d done in the past few months.
Bringing up Tessa, the kind-hearted but serious agent whom Izzy had had the pleasure of working with in the past during her contracts on the West Coast, had been an offering. A piece of their world that Izzy was able to give to Clary to get rid of some of the guilt she still felt whenever she remembered what she’d left behind in New York. What she’d ruined.
But now, looking at Clary, who was gazing at her with those hopeful green eyes, her warm hands pressing against her shoulders, Izzy felt her mouth go dry.
Company.
She’d avoided it so cautiously, determined not to drag anyone down with her as she struggled to recover from her scandalous decisions. Simon was supposed to be an exception, if only because Izzy found him endearing, but Clary–
“Please?” Clary fluttered her eyelashes at her, and Izzy swallowed thickly. The smirk tugging at Clary’s lips made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. “You said yourself that you’re new to the area, so I know you could use a friend, especially since Simon is so ridiculously busy all the time. I, on the other hand, keep my schedule very free. So free, in fact, that weekly movie nights would be the simplest thing to organize. If I had a friend to enjoy them with, that is.”
Perhaps Izzy had been a little hasty in calling her an angel, and yet–
She nodded, and watched as delight brightened Clary’s features, all hints of mischief vanishing from her face.
It was enchanting, and Izzy was under her spell.
“Perfect,” Clary whispered, squeezing Izzy’s shoulders one last time before retreating entirely. “This is going to be the best friendship you’ve ever experienced! Believe me, even Simon can’t live up to my high standards.”
And Izzy, staring at the woman who was perhaps just a little bit angelic, believed her.